


You're Sure As Hell Not Jesus (But You're Saving Me)

by queenjameskirk



Series: if i believe you [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Blood, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, M/M, Newt Scamander is Emotionally Damaged, So Many Mentions of Christianity, Violence, lets play a game called how many times can mac reference god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 20:07:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8859283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenjameskirk/pseuds/queenjameskirk
Summary: Newt doesn’t exactly know what a healthy relationship entails (he has the photographic proof of that tacked up in his workshop), but he’s pretty sure it isn’t supposed to involve worship. A companion piece to Love Covers Over A Multitude of Sins





	

Newt Scamander is not a particularly religious man. His father’s family were Irish Catholics, raised as proud God-fearing people, but his dad abandoned his faith after he met Newt’s mother. It is hard to have any belief in a higher power when your spouse has magic flowing from her fingertips. Instead, he poured himself into the history of the wizarding world and encouraged his sons to do the same. Luckily, if he ever found himself missing the religion he was raised to believe in, there was nothing quite like a biblical story at bedtime. Newt found he knew quite a bit more about the muggle god than most wizards after many nights of his father retelling the tales of Jonah and Noah. 

So of course he happens to recognize exactly when Credence recites a quote from the bible as Newt shows him around the suitcase for the first time. He chalks it up to fascination, as he has to admit that the habitats are pretty wondrous, and the bible has many good verses about the beauty of nature. Credence also seems embarrassed by his slip, so Newt doesn’t mention it and continues along on his tour.

While he shows off the grindylow enclosure, he drags his eyes away from the ground for a moment to rest on Credence. He lets his gaze linger on Credence’s long legs, his hunched back, and wide shoulders. Newt knows a starved creature when he sees one, so he vows that his first order of business is to get Credence’s psychical strength up. As he’s observing the impossible boy, he catches Credence stifle a yawn.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Newt quickly apologizes, leading Credence back towards his hut where the stairs are located, “You must be exhausted.”

“It’s fine, Mr. Scamander,” Credence begins, but Newt shushes him and ushers him up the stairs and back into their cabin. He watches as Credence disappears and then rummages around to find a blanket to take to him. Of course, while in the process of digging out the knit throw his mother made for him, he gets distracted and has to find his manuscript to jot down a quick thought. It’s been nearly half an hour by the time he manages to tear himself away from his work, and Newt curses as he realizes he’d forgotten to go check on Credence.

When he finally makes his way upstairs, blanket in hand, he finds Credence already fast asleep. The boy is curled into as tight a ball as he can manage, knees tucked up under his chin and his eyes squeezed shut. He’s taken off his jacket and tie and deposited them neatly on the chair in the corner of the room, but is still wearing his shoes and pants. His starched white shirt is unbuttoned and Newt can’t seem to be able to tear his eyes away from the boy’s exposed neck. Newt shakes his head, sighs, and carefully walks forward.

He’s just like any other beast, Newt tells himself as he takes the throw and tucks it around Credence’s thin frame. Just another creature in need of saving. He very pointedly does not think of the last human he had treated like a beast.

...  
Newt had never really had friends before. He’d always been particularly bad at conversation and very often got caught up in his own head, meaning that the other kids at school avoided him. Even though he’d been part of the friendliest house, he very often found himself sitting alone at mealtimes. Which was just fine for Newt, because it meant he had more time to read about all the magical creatures of the world, but he did get rather lonely. 

Newt met Leta Lestrange purely by accident while he was trying to sneak into the restricted section to retrieve a book about chimeras. There is where he’d very loudly bumped into another student. She’d yelled at him and they’d gotten caught and Newt had gotten in trouble because of Leta for the first time (but not last). They became fast friends.

Newt worshipped Leta. He was amazed by the confident way she spoke and walked and he looked up to the way she loved creatures of her own. Newt had never met anyone else who shared his love for magical beasts. He listened to her and found himself slowly sinking down into adoration for the Slytherin.

He knows why he was attracted to Leta, of course. She was wild and untamable and more than a little cruel. Of course a magizoologist had fallen a little in love with a wild girl, but Newt isn’t sure what about him had attracted Leta. She’d always said she knew what it was like to be an outcast like him, a younger sibling always in the shadow of their family, but Newt knows she was always more bitter and angry about it than he was. Perhaps she’d thought him gentle and easy to walk over. Perhaps she’d understood that she was a creature in need of care, and decided Newt was the best man for the job. No matter what had brought them together; Newt made it his mission to tame Leta Lestrange.

His mission proved to be costly for the both of them.

Later, after the danger of expulsion and Albus Dumbledore being forced to fight for him to stay at Hogwarts, Newt kicked himself for falling for such a cruel and ambitious girl. He vowed to continue his education with his head down and his heart guarded. He vowed to never worship another human being again. 

For ten years Newt avoided with human interaction. People tended to stay far away from him anyway and it wasn’t hard to hunch his shoulders just a little further and cast his gaze down towards the ground. Over time, he found he enjoyed avoiding eye contact and his defense mechanisms became his mannerisms. He spent his days darting around the world and his nights alone in his suitcase, building habitats for his quickly growing collection of magical creatures. He poured his heart and soul into caring for his beasts, and only thought fleetingly of the Slytherin girl he’d tried so hard to save from herself.

...

Newt’s hands shake for hours following his and Credence’s run-in with the dangerous poachers in Scotland. Even when they return safe and sound to Newt’s flat and climb down into the suitcase, he can’t seem to will his heart to settle. Images of Credence’s pure white eyes and the way the black smoke had made him so blurry along the edges flash through his head every time Newt blinks. When Credence makes the move to split up and go to his own bedroom, Newt’s hand darts out and clutches onto his sleeve.

“Share with me tonight?” He asks and receives a miniscule nod in return. They go to Newt’s bed and he can’t stop himself from reaching out and bringing the younger man close to his chest. His breathing evens out and he’s just about to drift off when a thought comes to him.

“Credence,” Newt starts, and Credence makes a small sound in reply, “Do you… miss your religion? I’ve noticed you quote biblical phrases sometimes and just wondered if you’d like me to get you a copy of the book to keep with you?” 

Credence shakes his head minutely and his hair tickles Newt’s nose. Newt is surprised by his answer and makes a small sound in question.

“God never listened to me,” Credence confesses to the curve of Newt’s neck, his breath hot and his words loud in the silent room. “I prayed for so many years for Him to end my suffering, but He never answered my pleas.” 

It’s irrational and silly and Newt has never been one for revenge, but in this moment he wishes Mary Lou were still alive so he could have a strong word with her.

“Do you not believe anymore?” Newt inquires, and brings a hand up to rest in Credence’s hair. He rolls a few strands between his fingers. 

“I’m not sure. I find it difficult to pray anymore because He doesn’t care about me. And why should He? I’m nothing but a sinner in need of salvation.” Credence sounds so hurt and Newt scrambles to get the pain out of his voice.

“Lots of people care about you, Credence,” he starts and elaborates when Credence lets out a quiet sound of disbelief. “Tina cares about you, and Queenie, and even Jacob. They ask about you every time they write me. My creatures love you too; haven’t you noticed the way the Mooncalfs flock around your feet and how the Graphorn foals fight for your attention?” His fingers drift from Credence’s dark hair and begin to trace the shell of the younger man’s ear. Credence seems placated.

“I care about you, too,” Newt whispers, half to himself. Credence sighs, so softly it’s almost lost to Newt’s ears, and closes his eyes. Newt is almost asleep himself when Credence finally responds.

“You’re a lot better to me than God ever was, Mr. Scamander.”

 

The more time Newt spends with Credence, the more he begins to worry about Credence’s obsession with him. He’s never been the sole recipient of a person’s faith before, and it scares him that Credence places all his trust and love in Newt’s hands. Not that Newt doesn’t love him back, but there’s an alarming amount of reverence in the way that Credence looks at Newt. Newt knows exactly what it’s like to love another person like that, and he doesn’t want Credence to end up like he did when Leta inevitably let him down. 

There’s also the way Credence is always there just over Newt’s shoulder. Since he’s been living with Newt, he’s been getting steady meals and has filled out his frame quite a bit. His hair is longer and he wears the black coat he always has and his eyes are just as dark as the first time Newt had peered into them, but his long legs are thick now and his arms strong. He’s a truly impressive figure when he wants to be and he uses it to his advantage when they need to intimidate breeders of magical beasts. Newt would be thankful for the back-up, except it doesn’t seem like Credence wants to be there and more like he feels he has to.

Newt is more than a little concerned with Credence’s knowledge of consent.

“Credence,” Newt begins one day, after he’d stared at the floor for an hour trying to figure out how to voice his thoughts, “You don’t have to be my bodyguard if you don’t want to be.”

It had been a long day. While arguing over the care of a group of dugbogs, Newt managed to anger a particularly difficult magical creature collector. The man began spitting insults and Newt was taken completely by surprise when Credence stepped forward and approached the collector. Though Credence hated harming others, there was no hesitation in the way he grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt and held him up. Newt managed to de-escalate the situation before things came to blows, but it had been utterly exhausting trying to calm Credence down after his short act of violence.

“Why wouldn’t I want to protect you, Mr. Scamander?” Credence responds without looking up from the charms book he’s reading.

“I mean,” Newt sighs, “I’m quite capable of handling any enraged people we come across. You don’t need to be constantly guarding me.”

Credence freezes. He slowly shuts his book, but doesn’t look up at Newt yet.

“If you don’t want me around, you just have to say the words and I’ll be out of your hair,” Credence says, guarded. The boy sets his jaw and Newt mentally smacks himself in the head.  
“No, no, that’s not what I meant at all!” Newt explains quickly, backtracking. After so many years of solitude and of talking to no one, Newt finds it difficult to put his thoughts into words eloquently.

“I just mean… you don’t have to… repay me by committing acts of violence on my part. You don’t owe me anything, Credence,” Newt finishes lamely and has to work against his instincts to make eye contact with the younger man.

Credence looks fierce. Newt is reminded of his first night with the boy and the way he’d thought he was in need of saving. Credence didn’t need anyone to save him. He already saved himself. 

“I would never let anything happen to you,” Credence says evenly, “If I did, I could never forgive myself.” Newt’s heart breaks a little bit.

“Credence, I think we need to talk about your… veneration towards me,” Newt spits out before he can stop himself. “I know what it’s like to lay all your hope and faith in someone and have it thrown back into your face, and it’s not healthy for either of us,”

“You’d never do that to me,” Credence argues.

“Never on purpose,” Newt agrees. He feels like he’s losing ground with every word he utters. “But I can’t guarantee that I’ll always be the best c-companion for you.”

“There is no other companion I’d want, Newt.” Credence says, knowing that his use of first name is enough to make Newt drop the conversation. If Credence had not already shown Newt the loyalty that runs deep in his veins, Newt would have thought him a very good fit for Slytherin house.

Later that night, Newt slips past Credence’s half-open bedroom door and into the kitchen to get himself a cup of tea before bed. As he returns, he hears muted whispering drifting from Credence’s room. When he passes by, he can almost make out the shape of the man kneeling next to his bed, lips moving in a quiet plea.

“Protect him,” Credence requests of God, his first prayer in weeks, and Newt feels himself stumble and fall in love.

 

When Newt hears Credence shout his name in fear, his heart stops. 

He drops the bucket of raw meat he’s carrying to the Nundu enclosure and follows the sound of Credence’s exclamations. His stomach plummets as he comes across the boy-- his hands out in surrender towards a defensive looking Tebo. 

“Newt!” Credence cries, and flinches as the warthog snorts angrily. “What do I do?”

Newt shushes him quietly and takes a few cautious steps forward. Tebos are a particularly strong beast, with a thick hide and sharp tusks and Newt does not want either of them to be on the other end of its wrath. The Tebo turns from Credence to look at its master. Suddenly, the African creature turns invisible.

“Run, Credence!” Newt commands, and draws his wand.

Credence disobeys. 

He plants his feet instead and Newt can see the black smoke seeping from his fingers. Newt hears the Tebo snort and sees the imprint left in the dirt of a line drawn with a hoof. Then, there is a galloping sound and Newt braces himself for the impact of an angry warthog.

There’s a whooshing sound and a strong wind whips the hair on Newt’s head around. Credence has appeared directly in front of Newt; planting himself firmly between Newt and the vicious Tebo. Newt watches, powerless, as the invisible beast collides with Credence and pushes him into Newt. They tumble to the floor together and Credence lands a to Newt’s right.  
Newt’s wand is knocked from his grip. He scrambles to his knees in the dirt and spots it a few feet away. His eyes dart around and he sees Credence lying prostrate on the ground. The Tebo is still invisible, except for one of its tusks. The end of it is stained a vibrant red.

Newt claws at the dirt and dust and gets his fingers around his wand just as the warthog snorts again and comes barrelling at him. He spins and casts a freezing charm before the Tebo can gore him as well.

“Immobulus!” He shouts, and the warthog is stopped in its tracks.

Newt stumbles on his knees towards Credence. The boy’s is clutching his side with red fingers, and a crimson wave is slowly spreading across his white shirt. 

“I didn’t mean to scare it,” He’s babbling, tears in the corners of his eyes. Newt lays his hands against the tusk wound and presses down. Credence’s breath hitches at the pain.

“Shh, it wasn’t your fault,” Newt soothes as he struggles to remember the few healing spells he’d picked up since becoming a magizoologist. He unbuttons the boy’s shirt to get a better look at the gasp. The wound isn’t as deep as he feared, but Credence’s panic is causing it to bleed rapidly. He’s also fading a blurry black around the edges, and Newt quickly scrambles to calm him down before he goes full Obscurial and hurts himself further.

“Credence, I need you to match my breathing,” Newt commands, and grabs one of Credence’s slippery hands and brings it up to his pulse. Credence’s fingers are warm and wet and slide across his clavicle. “Follow my lead.”

As Credence evens out his breath, Newt mutters a spell that stitches shut the gash. It’s a messy job that will surely leave a nasty scar in its wake, but it has stopped bleeding. Newt closes his eyes and tamps down the relieved sob that threatens to escape his throat. Credence is pale and tears continue to run down his cheeks, but he’s _alive_. 

He pulls himself away from Credence to return the frozen Tebo to its cage and then undo his defensive spell. Then he returns to where Credence is laid out on blood-soaked ground and apparates them both back to the workshop. He helps Credence to sit down on a chair in the corner and turns to search through his large collection of vials for a blood-replenishing potion. When he reaches his hand out to grab the bottle, he notices the blood that covers him from finger to forearm. It’s drying in patchy crimson spots and the sight of it makes him sick to his stomach.

“Scourgify,” He whispers, and the blood is cleaned away. He turns and does the same to Credence. There’s drying blood on his arms and side and neck. His shirt is hanging limply off one shoulder, torn from both the tusk and Newt’s frantic fingers. When he casts his cleaning spell, the stains disappear from the shirt but the tear stays.

He takes a step forward and holds the potion out for Credence to drink. The boy downs it in one swallow.

“I’m sorry,” Credence whispers, voice hoarse. Newt shakes his head. 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” and when Credence opens his mouth to argue, Newt shushes him. “Getting hurt is never your fault.” 

Credence’s face crumples and suddenly he’s crying again. Newt moves forward and pulls the boy up from his chair and into a tight hug, letting up only when he feels Credence tense up from the lingering pain in his side. They stand for what feels like hours; Credence with his face tucked against Newt’s shoulder, finally releasing the pain of his past, and Newt shuddering from pity and fear and love. When Credence’s cries finally stutter to a stop, Newt slides a hand to the back of his neck and pulls away. His eyes scan Credence’s face, sliding from his dark eyes to his cheeks, stopping on his lips. There’s a beat, and then Credence is moving forward so slowly to capture Newt’s kiss.

When Newt finally tastes Credence for the first time, he feels holy. It’s nothing like the few times he and Leta had kissed. Leta always felt like she was trying to devour Newt whole and leave nothing behind. Credence is timid and has his eyes wide open. His hand trembles slightly where it’s resting on the back of Newt’s neck, and when Newt pulls away, Credence unconsciously follows his mouth. Credence is not a taker; he’s a giver. Newt has never kissed a giver before.

One he starts, Newt cannot stop. He kisses Credence for hours that first night, arms and legs tangled together on top of Newt’s small bed, taking special care not to jostle Credence’s wound. He trails his lips around Credence’s neck and relishes in the small gasps that fall from the younger man’s mouth. He kisses Credence’s nose and forehead and closed eyes. He lays back and lets Credence trace constellations through the freckles on his chest and feels his heart beat thrum in his ears. There’s a heavenly warmth that bubbles up and suddenly he’s laughing and doesn’t know why. When Credence stops his appreciation of Newt’s body to ask what’s funny, Newt can’t answer. Instead, he guides Credence up with a hand on his jaw and gently presses their lips together. It’s not a particularly good kiss because Newt smiles through the entire thing, but it does feel like a blessing.

There’s a divine feeling in his stomach as he falls asleep next to Credence; a benediction in the way they face each other and drift off. When he wakes in the morning, he’s infinite. He can feel the press of lips between his shoulder blades and the trail of fingers down his spine as Credence mouths words, prayers, against Newt’s skin. 

 

Newt can’t change Credence’s nature. The boy will always seek out approval and affection from a higher power. His faith is tattooed across his bones, deep and black and immovable. Instead of denying Credence this nature, Newt vows to be the God that Credence has always wanted: someone to listen to him and show him mercy and return his devotion. 

Newt’s kisses are communion and his trailing fingers are pious; his love is a church service. Newt says invocation in the form of praise and encouragement. There’s no ceremony or ritual to the way he loves Credence, just boundless affection. He does what God is supposed to do: he loves unconditionally. 

When Credence doubts his place in Newt’s world, Newt calls upon an old biblical verse to convey his assurance. 

“There is no fear in love,” he promises.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't really have an explanation for this. it was supposed to be a lil blurb about newt realizing that credence worships at the altar of him and being VERY UNCOMFY abt it... and then everything just Got Away From Me. 
> 
> anyway, if you wanna chat about how crewt has taken over my life, visit me over on my tumblr @credbareboned
> 
> the title of this work is taken from the song Sure As Hell Not Jesus by Cosmo Jarvis


End file.
